strange days

I was sitting in my truck at a park when I saw a man.
He turned his back on me.
And all of a sudden I felt angry.
So I spat.
I didn’t know him or who he was.
But I wanted to get out and just cut him with words; to tell him he is nothing.
“You are but dust and you will soon dissolve into nothingness.”
I wanted to yell. I wanted to run and kick in the doors of every house.
Break the windows of homes with my screams.
I wanted to tear the park apart; uproot the trees,
throw my feelings into motion and destroy that place of peace.
But I realized this was all a part of me. That man is my brother.
And I could have killed him in an instant.
That man was my father and I would have spat in his face with disgust.
What a rage I felt.
I looked in the mirror and it got worse.
I punched, kicked, and tore at myself with words.
“You fool, you animal—you’re nothing more than an ape,” I said.
I wanted the mirrors to shatter and break my image.
But I was broken to begin with.
Poor, miserable, and a shame I was.
I threw myself into the air like a tree says goodbye to its leaves.
I was in a temperament of rage.
Yet, the only thing I could destroy was myself.
So I gave one final look into my eyes that say what a pathetic fool I am,
and I drove away.
I went to be with you in my head.